Total pages in book: 132
Estimated words: 124180 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 621(@200wpm)___ 497(@250wpm)___ 414(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 124180 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 621(@200wpm)___ 497(@250wpm)___ 414(@300wpm)
“Morning,” she greeted, eyes averted, as she removed a carton of eggs from the fridge.
He said nothing. Instead he glared at her until she lifted her gaze to meet his.
“Why are you dressed like that?”
She carefully placed the eggs on the island between them and gave him an imploring look. “Miles…”
“Why, Charity?”
“I thought it would be easier.”
“Easier to use the same shield that worked for you after years of spousal abuse?” Didn’t she get what a total fucking affront that was? “You thought you needed it with me? After everything we…”
His voice cracked, and he shook his head in frustration.
“It’s not like that,” she hastened to explain. “Miles, I never intended to insult or to hurt you. I just feel less vulnerable with a clearly defined role to play. No misunderstandings…no emotions. Just work. Until I leave.”
He. Could. Not. Bear. It.
He hated seeing her like this. Dressed in that horrendous armor. As if she needed to physically shield herself from him.
She was breaking his heart to pieces, and she thought she was the one who needed protection?
Stormy growled. The sound was low and vicious and so uncharacteristic, it shocked both of them into staring at her. At first Miles assumed she was reacting to the tension in the room, but the little dog was facing the basement door, her hackles up and her lips raised in a snarl.
She looked about as threatening as a mouse, but it was clear that something had upset her. Miles frowned at the basement door, wondering what had set her off.
And then he heard it. Footsteps on the staircase, accompanied by chatter and laughter and…
“Fuck,” he swore shakily, and pinched the bridge of his nose wearily. Well, this explained Vicki’s late-night text. It was literally the last thing he needed right now.
The door swung inward, and Stormy’s growls escalated into high-pitched, excited yaps.
The delighted feminine squeal that greeted the barking grated on Miles’s nerve endings. His sister was always so shrill.
“Oh my God, what’s this? A pupper? Who are you, buddy?” Vicki asked, scooping Stormy up into her arms. The dog didn’t know how to react. Looking excited and terrified and ecstatic all at the same time. Her tail was wagging and her body shaking and her tongue lapping at every bit of available skin she could find.
“Christ, give her to me, you’re scaring her,” Miles muttered, possessively taking his dog back and hugging her close to his chest. Vicki had a habit of claiming his possessions. And he would be damned if she thought she could do the same with Stormy.
“Hullo, big brother, did you miss me?” Vicki grinned, launching herself at him and hugging him tightly. Stormy squirmed between them, and Miles shifted her aside before reciprocating with a stiff, one-armed hug.
“What the hell are you doing here? What about the shop?”
“Surprise!” Vicki spread her arms and added a cheeky grin and jazz hands to the expansive motion. “You’re always so cagey on the phone and truly pathetic at texts. And when you refused to send me any proof of health photos, I had no option but to take matters into my own hands. I traded in my winter vacation for a mini summer break, so that I could come down here to see for myself how you’re doing. Linda”—her manager—“and I swapped some things around and here I am! Ooh, and check it out.” She directed her jazz hands toward the door, where Tyler Chambers, her large, hulking bodyguard, was courteously helping an older woman up the stairs.
“Mum?” Miles exclaimed. His face broke into a delighted grin at the sight of the older woman. “But you hate flying.”
“Well, I’ve never tried it before, have I?” his mother, ever practical, pointed out. “I can’t hate something I’ve never tried.”
“But you never wanted to try it,” he said. Overwhelmed by the unexpectedness of this, he still wasn’t sure how the hell they had gotten here. Or why nobody had bothered to let him know of their imminent arrival.
“Like your sister said, you weren’t very forthcoming in your phone calls. And when she suggested we do this, I did what any concerned mother would do, I packed my bags. So here we are.” As if it were the simplest thing in the world. Never mind that she had broken a lifelong vow never to climb into “one of those tin cans that had no business hurtling through the sky at obscene speeds”.
“Your sweet friend, Bryan, was kind enough to lend us his aeroplane.”
“It’s my ’plane, Mum.”
She gave a disapproving tut and shook her head critically. Making him feel about ten years old. “It’s not nice to brag, Miles.”
“Yes, Mum. Sorry,” he apologized, only because it was expected of him
She tilted her head to give him a critical once-over.
“You’ve gained weight. Good,” she said, with an approving nod. “And put on some color. You look so much better. That very nice man, George, was telling us on the way here from the airport, that you’ve been doing well. Now come over here, give your old mum a kiss, and tell her how happy you are to see her.”